


Two Sides of the Same Coin

by washingDONE



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Desk Sex, Eventual Smut, George is an alpha, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Oral Sex, Philip is an omega, Sex, Shameless Smut, best otp ever, definitely NSFW, hate to love (kinda), kind of cute at the end, mentions of non con, non pre-established philip hamilton/george eacker, nothing actually happens though, pheacker is my shit tho, really smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/washingDONE/pseuds/washingDONE
Summary: "You really want me to do it, huh?" George drew one hand across Hamilton's cheek, earning a shudder from the younger one."Need." He corrected softly. "Not want. N-Need.""What's the magic word?" George smirked a bit. Hamilton glared sharply at him."You're a d-dick.""Not quite, Hamilton.""You..." Hamilton paused, clearly seeing that cursing George out wasn't the way to go."Please."





	Two Sides of the Same Coin

**Author's Note:**

> all the pheacker for everyone  
> my smut gets so many hits  
> you dirty sinners  
> that's ok though, i love writing this crap  
> enjoy this ;v;

When George Eacker heard a knock at his door at nine in the afternoon, he certainly didn't want to answer it. It was far too late for anything to be done, and he had no idea who would be coming over this late.

The knocking persisted; five short raps, with a small pause after the first three. Quick and impatient. George was about to get up and leave the room when a particular scent caught his nose. Woodsy, with an edge of honey, very strong and demanding but a bit faint at the same time. Something stirred inside him, a coil of heat pooling inside of his stomach, and all the blood in his body rushed south.  
The scent was so intoxicating, he practically _scrambled_ to the door, yanking it open.

"Hamilton?" George muttered in a bit of shock. It took a few minutes to register that Philip Hamilton, at his doorstep, was the source of this intoxicating scent. He was still high off of the fragrance, so it took a moment for him to speak coherently. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" At that moment, it struck George that Hamilton was acting different, somehow. The loudmouthed, cheerful boy seemed off, in more ways than one. He avoided eye contact, staring at his polished leather boots with an intent glare. He seemed nervous, arms behind his back, fidgeting, with an anxious aura about him. He shuddered, as if he was trying to shake something off of him.

"Right now?" George questioned bluntly. He faltered, and looked at Hamilton. There was a mix of worry and desperation in his eyes, and the scent was still in George's mind, stronger than ever. He sighed. "Fine. Get in." George stepped to the side, and Hamilton rushed in, as if he was running from something.

The two of them stood in the entryway silently.  
"What do you want, then?" George asked impatiently. He had things to do, important things, probably. He couldn't really remember them. The smell came back, over and over, clogging his mind and blurring his thoughts into cluttered, incoherent mumbling.

"I need your help." Hamilton's reply came out as a bit of a whine, and George blinked in surprise. That was new. It sounded almost like he was...begging?  
"With what?"

"It's...I'm... My..." Hamilton stuttered, and tripped over his own words in embarrassment. That was the biggest indication that something was horribly wrong. Hamilton was a lot of things, indeed, but illiterate was none of them. He could make palaces out of paragraphs, and took after his father in that regard. His essays and speeches were well known all around, and even George had to admit that they were better than most, maybe even all of the others, if he was being modest. The fact that Hamilton couldn't form a genuine sentence set off a lot of alarms. "It's just... There's a... I...erm..."  
"What the hell do you -- " George started a question, and then stopped. His mind pulled up a memory from middle school, in sex ed class. They had been taught about the differences between alphas, betas, and omegas.  
"Omegas, once a month, for approximately seven days, go into a heat cycle. Symptoms of omega heats include increased sexual drive, body temperature rising dramatically, pain, increased anxiety, and incoherent speech." The teacher was droning on. Those words were in George's head for a while, but he figured it didn't matter. He wasn't an omega, why was he supposed to care?

Maybe Philip was? He was an omega, so it would make sense. George needed to prove that Hamilton was in heat, though. He moved forward, closing the space between them in a matter of seconds, and raised his hand. Hamilton looked up at him in shock and worry as George pressed two fingers against his head.  
_He's burning up..._ George thought faintly.

"You're in heat." George stated, more to himself than anything.

"I...Yeah." Hamilton took a deep breath.

"Don't you know plenty of other Alphas that can...take care of it?" George asked, backing away a bit. A flash of fear in Hamilton's eyes passed by.

"Only betas...and other omegas. I... I know a f-few alphas...They hate me." He murmured fearfully. "They'd...they'd hurt me b-beyond comprehension." The word _rape_ was on his tongue, but he bit it back.

"And how do you know that I wouldn't?" George muttered.

"W-Would you?" Hamilton shot back. George bit back a million _no's._

"Are you asking me to..." George couldn't seem to finish that sentence himself. The words died in his throat.

"Yes. I am."

"What's in it for me?" George crossed his arms expectantly. He knew he was acting like an ass, but he couldn't have cared less.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hamilton hissed. "A free lay. A fuck toy for the night. Isn't that w-what you want?"

"I..." Pain crossed George's face. "Is that all you think of me? Am I that low to you?"

"I mean...No...But..." He flushed bright red, looking away adamantly. George stepped closer again, until they were chest to chest. The silence was deafening.

"You really want me to do it, huh?" George drew one hand across Hamilton's cheek, earning a shudder from the younger one.

"Need." He corrected softly. "Not want. N-Need."

"What's the magic word?" George smirked a bit. Hamilton glared sharply at him.

"You're a d-dick."

"Not quite, Hamilton."

"You..." Hamilton paused, clearly seeing that cursing George out wasn't the way to go.

" _Please._ "

George lifted him over to his desk (not as heavy as he seemed) and sat him down on the edge.

"Good job, Hamilton." George muttered, moving to permanently close the distance between them.

"P-Philip." He corrected again. George sighed, moving forward to kiss him.

Philip never knew a kiss could feel so _satisfying_.

Lips permanently connected, tongues touching and exploring, he almost moaned already in relief. It was so hot, his insides felt like a bonfire, burning him up. It didn't last long enough, though. George pulled away before it could get serious. Philip whined in withdrawal, moving forward to catch George's lips within his again. George chuckled, and Philip felt a pair of hands unbuttoning his jacket.

"Not so hasty, Philip." The name sounded nice on George's lips. Philip would pay to hear that sound being played to him, on repeat for an hour. Philip practically tore his jacket off hastily, buttons flying everywhere and clattering on the desk.

"Or you could do that. That works too." George mumbled, and started taking off his clothes as well.

Philip never undressed faster. He got his undershirt and breeches off in record time, stockings draped over George's cabinet.

George took his sweet time getting his clothes off, every button and zip and tie seemed to take a miniature eternity. Philip tried to help, batting at George's hands impatiently.

"For the love of god, h-hurry up," Philip whined. "You're doing this on purpose."

"That might be true." George moved forward, tossing his cravat to the side. His study looked more like the aftermath of a laundry bin exploding; clothes were scattered everywhere. But neither of them cared anyways.

George kissed Philip harder this time. It was when he started palming the omega through his pants that Philip started moaning into his mouth, squirming loudly.

"Quite a mouth you've got." George commented, breaking away. "Try to keep it down, will you?"

"Is that a request?" Philip breathed in sharply. George started biting love marks down his neck, jaw and collar.

"Nope." George murmured into his skin after a minute of thought. "Consider it an order."

Philip shuddered at that, tightening his grip on the table.

"Understood."

George peppered kisses down Philip's collar bone to his chest, pausing to suck and nip at one of his nipples teasingly. Philip couldn't stop the moan that came out of his mouth. He couldn't help that George found one of his many sensitive spots. A sharp slap to the thigh was all that he got.

"Fuck, I'm s-sensitive, all right?" Philip hissed back.

"Boo-hoo, not my problem." George replied, taking one of Philip's nipples in his mouth and biting down on it. This time, Philip stopped the moan before it came out, resulting in a soft whimper.

"That's better."

George moved down south, pressing affectionate kisses everywhere he could, until he got to Philip's briefs. Then he mouthed at Philip's growing problem, teasingly. Philip tried his hardest to suppress the impatient whine that was rising out of his throat.

After George deemed Philip's punishment over, he pulled down his boxers to his ankles. Immediately, a wet stain pooled onto the desk. George dipped his finger into Philip's entrance, testing the waters a bit.

"God, you're so wet. Did I do this to you?" George chuckled. Philip could hear the smirk in his voice.

"You have no idea what you do to me, you ass." Philip groaned. "Get started already, I'm --" Philip was cut off when George suddenly started licking him for all he was worth. It became near impossible to hide the moans he wanted to make, and he was practically shaking in pleasure. The sensations were unlike anything he'd experienced before. He bucked his hips towards George's mouth, eagerly meeting each movement his tongue made. He grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked on it, allowing himself to let out one low, drawn-out moan that sounded nothing like a sound he'd make. George's tongue was moving along his entrance in ways that made him want to scream.

The rising orgasm hit him all at once, screams and moans and cries escaped from his mouth, consequences be damned. He was practically face-fucking George, who took that as encouragement to keep going.

Then he came off of his high, and George didn't stop. Philip cried out in overstimulation. The pleasure became too much. Little white pinpricks pierced his vision.

George finally remembered what mercy was and pulled away, leaving Philip panting and sighing with relief and exhaustion.

Then he was kissed, and Philip could taste himself on George's lips, and kissed back with equal enthusiasm. George grabbed handfuls of Philip's hair and pulled, varying from a soft tug to a harsh yank that had him gasping in delight.

The two pulled away from each other, trying to catch their breath steadily. When both of them had a supportive amount of oxygen to go with, George slipped off his briefs and let his cock spring free.

Philip almost drooled at it. He wanted to get on his knees in front of it, and return that favor that George had just given him. He eased himself off of the desk, and sat on his knees. He started off by wrapping a hand around it, pumping steadily and gauging its size. How much of that would he be able to fit in his mouth. He wrapped his lips around it, inching his way down to the knot until he felt the tip hitting the back of his throat. He went back up, and then back down again, working it with his tongue alongside his mouth.

George was sighing and hissing in delight, one hand on the back of Philip's head to keep him steady.

"God, Philip, fuck." George moaned. Philip only hummed in response, the vibrations driving George crazy with want.

He started building up to an orgasm, bucking his hips to meet Philip's mouth. Philip could taste the salty precum on his tongue, and took that as encouragement to bob his head even faster.

"Philip, Philip, I -- " George got a sense of realization, and grabbed Philip by the hair, pulling him off. Philip whined a bit, giving George an accusatory glance upwards. George moved down to kiss him softly.

"You want me to fuck you for real, don't you?" George murmured. Philip's eyes clouded over with a submissive sort of lust. George lifted him back onto the desk. Their lips never broke apart. One of George's hand was carding through Philip's hair soothingly, another fumbling with his member and lining it up with his entrance.

George broke away from the kiss, peppering soft kisses down Philip's jaw.

"This might hurt, okay?" George whispered softly. Philip nodded.

"I-I'm ready." He replied.

"Okay."

George eased his way into Philip gently, going slowly as to savor the feeling. Philip let out a long, drawn-out sigh of relief. George didn't stop until he was buried up to the hilt in Philip, and the two of them remained still for a few moments.

Then George started moving, in and out at a snail's pace, drawing out little whines from the one below him.

"F-Faster," Philip hissed, digging his nails in George's back. "Go faster."

"Since you asked so nicely~" George drawled, bucking his hips against Philip quickly. Philip gripped George's shoulders tightly as he was fucked within an inch of his life, crying out in pleasure.

Both of them got closer and closer to orgasm. Philip was soon reduced to incoherent babbling. He dug his nails into George's skin, clawing thin lines down his back. Philip's breaking point came when George buried his face in the crook of his neck and started _biting_. Philip cried out as George's teeth sank into one of his more sensitive spots, drawing blood that was promptly licked up.

Philip could tell that he was on the brink of orgasm. Everything got hazy, and he could see that George was close as well. Thrusts becoming sloppy, less precise. Philip shuddered, and gave one last, fleeting cry.

"George, I'm going to --" His orgasm rocked him in waves, flooding all his senses until the only thing that registered was the insane pleasure of it. He shook in George's grasp, and could hardly register that George was coming too, filling him to the brim.

Blood dripped down George's back from Philip clawing up and down his spine, red welts breaking the skin. Neither of them really cared, though. The two rode off their highs, clinging together like animals.

When they finally calmed down, and the waves of pleasure fell short, there was a thick silence, accented by heavy panting and sighs.

Philip looked down at the pool of spit and cum and god knows what else collecting around them on the desk. That stain would never get out.

The two of them looked like disasters. Philip's hair exploded around him from being pulled and yanked, the two of them were covered in cum, and bite marks and scratches marred both of them.

Then his attention became focused on George, who had started peppering chaste kisses down Philip's shoulder, around the deep bites that had marred his neck.

"I...I bonded you." George realized aloud. The word held some sort of power, and it felt permanent. He met Philip's gaze.

"That's okay..." Philip murmured softly.

"But...that means..."

"I know what it means, George." Philip interrupted.

George picked up the nearest article of clothing (which happened to be Philip's cravat) and cleaned the two of them up.

"You're really okay with..." George couldn't find the words, it seemed.

"I'm -- Fuck!" Philip's attempts to stand were all failures; he crumpled to the ground on weak legs. George swooped him up with a little chuckle, carrying him bridal style.

"Careful," George cautioned. Philip allowed himself to be carried all the way to George's bedroom, where he was eased onto the bed. Philip immediately fell in love with the plush, warm duvet, sinking into it with a relieved sigh. George curled in beside him, a comforting source of warmth. Philip couldn't help but scoot a bit closer, relaxing when George's arms wrapped around him. A hand played with his hair, admiring the bouncy curls.

"Are you okay with being...mates?" George questioned quietly.

"Are you doubting my affections?" Philip asked back.

"Not in the slightest. I thought you hated me before this, though." George admitted.

"Love and hate are two sides of the same coin, are they not?" A smile played on the corners of his lips at the response.

"I suppose they are." Philip murmured something indiscernible, pressing his body against George's and nuzzling affectionately.

Philip quickly fell asleep, snoring softly. The sound of his breathing, light and slow, soon sent George into slumber alongside him.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't publish anything on my tumblr anymore, but it's still worth putting on here  
> the-devil-wears-purple is my handle, hit me up
> 
> !!update!!  
> I'm going to try publishing a new work every 4-5 days. My next work will be on July 1/2 depending on how long it takes. See y'all until then :D


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